


Little Choice

by Roguex1979



Series: Tom and Grace Hughes (Jaguar!Tom) [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Extortion, F/M, Grace loves Valentino!, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Table Sex, Threats of Violence, Vaginal Fingering, Villain! Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 04:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2178417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roguex1979/pseuds/Roguex1979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a few months since Grace last saw Tom Hiddleston, and she hoped never to see him again, but when he re-enters her life, she will have little choice in taking him up on a particular offer he has for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Choice

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to 'The Breakdown Rescue' and I have to say I am quite proud of this. It required a tiny bit of research into an Italian designer (Valentino), help from my friend, Marcella, with Italian translations (thank you, dear!) and help from MaggiesAngel when I hit a road bump in my progression, so I REALLY hope you enjoy this. If you do, please leave kudos/feedback. :D
> 
> BTW: I am aware that Italian is not actually one of the languages Tom is versed in, but for the sake of this fiction, he can! *sticks tongue out childishly*

[ ](http://s1369.photobucket.com/user/Roguex1979/media/jaguartom_zps3df8d530.jpg.html)

The last 4 months had not been easy on Grace. Ever since the ‘incident’ as she called it in her head – never ‘the horrific murder she’d witnessed after sleeping with the man who ordered it’ – she has been on tenterhooks, expecting the worst, seeing things that weren’t there, imagining she was being followed.

_“Grace Hughes: Flat 3, 19 Elvaston Place, Kensington Park, London, SW7 5QS. Parents: Jason and Emma Hughes, 5 Sovereign Harbour, Eastbourne, BN23 5QD. Siblings: Jack and Celia Hughes, both younger and living with parents. Jack is at Eastbourne College and Celia attends Eastbourne Secondary school…need I go on?”_

He’d known all about her and her family. He’d threatened them, in not so many words, if she decided to go to the police, then he’d driven off in that white jaguar of his, without so much as a backwards glance.

Her parents were suspicious of her actions after that night. “Grace, dear, what is going on?” her mum asked when she’d called them for the fifth time in so many days. “We usually only hear from you once a week if we’re lucky.”

“Just…checking up on you,” she answered, clutching at a reason for her frequent calls. “I…had a horrible dream that something untoward had happened to you guys, that’s all. How’s Celia…and Jack?”

And eventually, her mum and dad expected her everyday calls, but nothing happened. No intimidating letters or phone calls, no actual signs of a danger. It was weeks before Grace began to relax again.

She was at work, however, one day in March, speaking heatedly to her boss that a large contract had been handed over to one of her younger, much more inexperienced male colleagues. “ _I_ was the one who sought _them_ out and made first contact.” She was waving her arms around in the air for emphasis. “ _I’m_ the one who made the initial meeting and worked my butt off to represent this company to gain the contract, and now you’re passing it off to Little Boy Blue Eyes? Why? What could your reasons for this _possibly_ be?” she shouted.

Alan, her smug-faced boss, was watching her breasts, not her face. “Ed and the contact at Cannon have a special…arrangement…” _He was shagging her._ “…so it was natural that I pass it to him after we…”

“I!”

“ _…we_ gained the contract. It makes more sense.”

 _Fine, but don’t come crying to me when Ed breaks her heart and they fire us!_ “Will I benefit from the bonus?”

“Grace,” Alan said, his tone patronising. “You know the bonuses go to the contract holders.”

Grace slammed her palms down on the desk and bared her teeth. “You fucking asshole!”

“Grace! Language!” Alan admonished, standing up, the smirk on his face never wavering. Grace wanted to slap it off him. “It’s better this way. You’ll have more time in the office without that pesky contract.” He came up behind her and ran a finger across her shoulders causing her to stiffen and spin around.

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, but Alan crowded her and placed his hands on his desk, either side of her, trapping her. He leaned into her. “What are you doing, Alan?”

He nuzzled her neck and she placed her hands against his chest, trying to push him off. “Why would I want to let you out of the office more than you have to, Grace? Imagine all the fun we can have when all the boys are gone out to the field and we’re alone, just the two of us.” He lightly bit her.

Grace exploded and pushed him away with all her might. “You sick fuck!” she cried, her voice rising and she was astounded to see the genuinely surprised look on Alan’s face. Had he really thought she would be susceptible to his advances? She’d _always_ pushed him away, laughing his playfulness off as a bad joke, but now he openly admitted he kept giving the contracts away so she would stay in the office? She’d suspected, but never did she think it would be a reality! “You know what? I’m sick of this. Sick of you always overlooking me for promotion, always giving away _my_ contracts, and now I know why! I quit!” She grabbed the door handle to storm out, slammed the door open, stalked over to her desk, and grabbed her personal belongings, all the while the few boys who were in the office looked on with astonishment.

With one final scathing glance back at her suitably shocked boss, she left the office.

~~~

That had been a couple of days ago. Grace lay on her couch with a hand flung over her arm, a large tub of Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough ice cream half devoured and the rest melting on her walnut coffee table, Jeremy Kyle on the television shouting at a poor unsuspecting woman who had only come on the show so he would help her with her estranged daughter.

The intercom buzzed and she stirred, moaning from her ice cream headache. It buzzed again forcing her to get up and shuffle over in her threadbare slippers and oversized grey t-shirt and blue plaid pyjama bottoms to the panel. She pressed the answer button and a delivery man smiled at her through the wide-angle camera. “Delivery!” he announced and gestured to a few of packages behind him. Grace could also see his delivery truck parked outside the building.

“I didn’t order anything,” she mumbled.

The man looked confused and looked at his electronic device with the delivery details. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you not Grace Hughes, Flat 3?”

Grace furrowed her brow. “That…that’s me.”

The man smiled again. “Then I have a delivery for you.”

“Who’s it from?” she asked.

She saw the man sigh. “Look, I’m just the delivery driver; I don’t know who sent it. Can you just come and get the stuff so I can move onto the next address?”

Grace buzzed the door open and went down to the street level to collect the items. One was a fairly large package, but was very light, another was shoe-box sized and the last was slightly larger than the shoe-box. She signed for the delivery and took them up to her flat.

She looked at each package, certainly seeing her name and address, but nothing gave it away who the package was from or what was in them. She shrugged and, muting Jeremy Kyle, opened the smaller box.

She gasped when she saw a pair of Valentino shoes, pointy toes, kitten heel, lace embroidery in a soft white; easily £500. And they were her size. She picked them up and inspected them carefully. They were _not_ knock offs. But she didn’t remember buying them. Certainly, now that she was out of a job, she could never afford something like this. She searched the box for a receipt or delivery instructions, but found none. It had been sent to her privately, not from a store directly.

Carefully putting them on the floor, ensuring they were on her rug rather than her wooden floorboards, she took off her slippers and nudged her feet into the Valentinos. They fit her perfectly.

Intrigued, she opened the larger box and gasped again when she saw it was another Valentino, this time a dress that she knew cost over £1000! She looked at the label: _Valentino Daisy Piqué Embroidered Dress_. Again, it was genuine and her size.

She ripped into the third box and squealed with delight. It was another Valentino, a cream and gold handbag, rock-stud flap; another £1500! She hugged the bag. It was a 2012, but she didn’t give a fuck. She’d always wanted Valentino, and now she had an entire outfit!

[ ](http://s1369.photobucket.com/user/Roguex1979/media/Valentino_zps77b1c91e.jpg.html)

Wondering who could have sent this all this to her, she pulled the dress completely out of its box to inspect it more clearly. An envelope fluttered to the ground, and she noticed another smaller package inside the dress box. Opening the smaller package, she blushed to see a very lacy bra and barely there knickers. Picking up the envelope and opening it, her blood ran cold.

_So sorry to hear about your job. Thought this might cheer you up. – TH_

Grace dropped the note with a squeak when the buzzer went again. She felt a certain amount of dread and swallowed hard. She looked at the note again. It was him. It had to be. _TH: Tom Hiddleston_ , the killer businessman. He _was_ still keeping an eye on her.

The buzzer sounded impatiently again and once again, Grace forced herself to go over, still in the Valentino shoes. She pressed the buzzer and saw what she could only describe as terrifying. All she could see was a white jaguar parked outside the building, directly in the line of sight of the camera. It could have been someone else’s, but the likelihood of that would have to completely ignore the massive coincidence that was Grace’s life right at that moment. “H…hello?” Grace cursed her voice for sounding so helpless.

A man came into view, not Tom though. Her breath hitched. It was the same man, the associate, who had pulled the trigger on Tom’s order and killed that man in the parking lot of the bed and breakfast. He looked imposing. “Mr Hiddleston would like to have a word.”

Grace felt a bead of sweat run down the back of her neck. “Well…he can say it out there; I can hear you just fine.”

The associate moved out of the way and Tom looked at her, as if he could see her. Thank goodness for one way viewing intercom systems, though. Grace unconsciously smoothed her dishevelled hair when she saw his handsome face. God, she’d forgotten how good-looking he was, and then remembered he was a killer.

He smiled. “Grace? Why don’t you come down to street level so I can talk to you properly?” he asked, his voice smooth and rich.

Grace’s heart began pumping even harsher in her chest. There was no way she was going down there! “I…I’m naked at the moment!” she called, her mind racing. _Why? Why had she said that??_

She saw Tom chuckle and look to his left, presumably as his ‘friend’. “Oh, well, if that’s the case, perhaps you’d prefer to invite me up _there_ instead?” He looked back up at her, his face suggestive, eyebrow raised.

“No,” she said adamantly.

“Grace, darling, don’t be silly. I just want to talk.”

Grace knew a few people would likely walk by the building, so she couldn’t say what she really wanted to say for fear they might hear and she would put them in danger. “Please, just leave,” she whispered.

Tom frowned. “Look, Grace…” But she cut him off. She didn’t want to hear him, she didn’t want to look at him. She turned away from the intercom and went over to her window, where she could see the street below her. She had an aerial view of the two men standing outside. She could see them talking and for a second, she feared they might break the door down, but that was just her imagination running away with her. She watched as Tom got into his jaguar, the associate walking further down the road and round the corner. The jag drove off and was shortly followed by the BMW X5 she’d seen before.

Grace breathed a sigh of relief and looked at her feet, noticing she still had the shoes on. She shucked them off as quickly as she could and put them back in their box, as well as the handbag, dress, bra and knickers. Knowing they’d come from him tainted them somehow. Why would he send them to her to cheer her up? Why would he then follow up with a home visit? Was this merely an intimidation tactic to remind her of his power over her?

She shook her head and took both boxes into her room and stuffed them at the back of her closet. Out of sight, out of mind, she felt. She went back into the living room and switched to _Homes Under The Hammer_ , finishing the melted ice cream.

~~~

“I’m telling you; report the guy!” Grace’s best friend, Laura said over their coffees a couple of days later.

“I can’t just report him,” Grace explained. “The HR department is basically _him_ , because it’s a small business. Who would I report him too?”

Laura bit into her biscotti. “Well, what are you going to do?” she asked. “You haven’t even updated your CV, you’ve just been moping. Won’t your rent become due soon?”

Grace sighed. “I’m okay, for now. Bank of Mum and Dad are offering a substantial loan for the time being. They know I’ll be good for it once I’m back on my feet.”

“In the mean time, you’ve been stuffing your face with ice cream and feeling sorry for yourself.”

Grace put her face in her cupped palms shamefully. “I know! And I’ve gotten addicted to JK!”

“Grace!” Laura hooted. “He is the devil, you know that?”

Grace giggled and looked out of the window. It was unseasonably warm for March, and several people were out in shorts and t-shirts. “Wow, one day of warm sunshine and the loons come out in…” Her voice trailed off when she noticed a white jaguar pulling up to the curb outside the shop. She swallowed harshly when she saw Tom get out of the car. “Oh shit!” Grace ducked under the table.

Laura bent down to look at her. “Are you okay, hun?”

Grace blinked. “Outside; is there a tall good-looking guy? Near a white F-type?”

“No…” Laura said, her voice uncertain. “There _is_ a tall good-looking guy coming into the shop though.”

“Fuck!” Grace hissed and tried to curl into an even smaller ball.

“Grace?” she heard a man’s, Tom’s, voice. “Is that you?”

Grace’s mouth went dry. This could _not_ be a chance meeting. She climbed out from under the table. “Oh, Tom! Hi!” she said sounding a little too high pitched and overly squeaky. The killer had the audacity to look cute and innocent, like a normal guy, albeit still suited and booted, as was his wont.

She stiffened when Tom went to hug her. She glanced at Laura and gave her _help me!_ eyes, but her friend simply sipped her coffee and wiggled her eyebrows at her. The hug was warm and inviting, and the feel of his hard body against her sent shivers up her spine; a combination of fear and a little lust, remembering him pounding into her the last time they were in each other’s physical presence.

She pulled away as quickly as she could whilst still trying to maintain an aura of calm, hiding her panic. “What…what are you doing here, Tom?” Her voice wavered through clenched teeth as she fake-smiled.

He grinned. “I came in for a coffee to go.” He caught the eye of the girl behind the counter and with a curt nod from him, the girl knew exactly what he wanted. “Actually, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a couple of days, Grace,” he said knowingly. She had ignored all calls to her phone where she didn’t recognise the number and ignored the buzzing at her door if she wasn’t expecting anyone. “I even went by your parents’ place to see if you were there.” Grace felt all her muscles clench in fear when he said this. Again, he was showing her his power, and it was a not-so-gentle reminder that he knew where they lived.

“Oh, I…er…I’ve just not been feeling very well, so I’ve been avoiding everyone. No need to feel like I’m especially ignoring you, and you certainly don’t need to travel two hours down to the coast to see if I’m at my parents.”

“Grace, who is this handsome man?” Laura just _had_ to want an introduction, didn’t she? If they all lived though this encounter, Grace was going to have to give Laura a crash course in reading the situation.

“Oh, um, Laura, this is Tom. Tom, Laura.”

Tom took Laura’s hand and bent over to give it a kiss. “A pleasure,” he said with a charming smile.

“And how do you know Grace, because Grace hasn’t told me _anything_ about you!” At least Grace hoped Tom would take that as a sign that she really hadn’t told anyone about him, not even her best friend, although, she rather thought that he would know if she had anyway since he seemed to be keeping a close eye on her. But she was interested to see what answer he would give to the posed question.

Tom grinned. “Well, Laura, we met accidentally at a bed and breakfast a few months ago, spent the evening together, chatting and laughing, and then I drove out of her life the next morning, regretting not getting her number. I’ve been trying to track her down for ages.” _Bollocks! He knew exactly where to find her at all times!_ “I managed to track her down the other day and really just wanted to invite her out to dinner.”

“Oh, how sweet!” Laura said, being taken in by Tom’s nice guy act. “Grace, how come you never told me about this?”

Grace laughed nervously. “Well, uh, I didn’t tell you because…because…um…I forgot!”

“You forgot?!” both Laura and Tom asked sceptically; Laura for obvious reasons, and Tom probably because she could have thought of a better excuse. She could see the amusement on his face.

“Yes, well, you see, I had broken down and Tom here picked me up and we went to a hotel that I don’t remember the name of because Tom had booked a room that wasn’t being used, so I didn’t pay for it, so I don’t have a receipt, and then I forgot because I was concentrating on getting my car fixed and back to London and…” Grace realised she was rambling.

Tom was signalled by the barista, and he excused himself to get the item. Laura shook her head. “When I come back from the bathroom, you’re going to tell me everything, young lady!” she all but growled. “I’ll give you two a few minutes.”

Grace suppressed the urge to ask Laura to stay until after Tom left, but she knew once Laura had something in her mind, she would not back down. Tom came over as Laura brushed passed and he smiled at her. “So, about that dinner…?”

With her friend gone, Grace felt a bit braver. “Dinner? With you? Are you crazy?” she hissed just above a whisper, looking around the shop to make sure no one was paying them any attention.

“I don’t see why not, love. You have a beautiful dress and shoes, and I know the perfect place you can showcase them. Please? It will be my treat, _and_ my privilege to be with you.”

Grace laughed humourlessly. “Why would I want to go out with a man like you? A man who…who…you know what!”

Tom smiled, and it was not a nice smile. It was wicked. “Well, it’s rather simple, actually. You can either come out with me to dinner, wearing the expensive outfit I bought you, or…” He looked to the back of the shop, where Grace could see Laura emerging from the bathroom, but hanging back a bit to let them talk. “…I can have Stephen over there take your friend, Laura Jones, out on a ‘date’.” Grace then noticed Tom’s associate sitting in a seat, and the man was looking intently at Laura, who hadn’t noticed him. Tom had also used Laura’s last name, which she knew she hadn’t given him, so he’d used his ‘means’ to get that information too. Tom leaned forwards. “And as you know, because I’ve told you before, _I’m_ not the one who pulls the trigger,” he sneered.

Grace felt slightly faint. “You’re extorting a date out of me? Really?” Tom laughed, but said nothing. Grace clenched her fists at her sides. “You’re despicable!” she whispered angrily, leaning in closer to him so that she could speak even quieter. “You have no right to do this. I’m keeping quiet about the incident; that was your deal! You can’t just…” She couldn’t finish speaking, feeling tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “Please. Don’t make me do this.”

“Oh, Grace,” Tom said in her ear, his voice deathly low. “Do you know how much I love to hear you begging? I hope to hear more of it from you, again, just like last time.” He leaned back, because Laura was coming back to the table, and Grace felt her cheeks burning. “Tomorrow night; I’ll pick you up outside your flat at quarter to seven. Don’t be late.” He headed towards the shop door. “Nice to meet you, Laura. Stay safe!”

Grace felt a wind whoosh passed her and realised it was ‘Stephen’ leaving as well. Grace shivered uncontrollably knowing who he was and what he could do, even if it wouldn’t happen now in the shop…in front of witnesses. Grace looked at Laura, who was grinning like a madwoman when she’d heard the plans.

“Oh, and Grace?” Grace looked away from her friend and at Tom. “Wear the outfit I got you, okay? _All_ of it.”

And then he was gone, leaving Grace to fend off a barrage of questions from Laura.

~~~

Grace sat motionless on her couch, staring at nothing in particular. Occasionally she would glance up at her clock, watching the time. It was nearly time for Tom to pick her up for their ‘date’ and she was not looking forward to it in the slightest.

She shifted uncomfortably and felt the lace knickers and bra rubbing against her skin underneath the gorgeous dress, which she had to admit she looked stunning in. It fit her beautifully, and she idly wondered how Tom knew her correct size, and then snorted at the ridiculousness of it all. Of course he knew everything there was to know about her. He had ‘ways and means’ to use his phrasing. The shoes fit her, the dress; even the bra and panties fit her. It was almost like the items had been made especially _for_ her. Oh, how she loved Valentino! She had actually thought _‘if only he’d had the forethought to buy her a light jacket as well’_ as the weather was not warm enough to go without one. She chose her cream coloured Marks and Spencer trench coat and immediately took it off. It ruined the look, so she decided to go without. She was going to be uncomfortable enough throughout the evening without worrying about a little cold.

A final glance at the clock told her it was time to go, and since she hadn’t been told by him if she should wait outside or for him to buzz up, she decided to pre-empt him. Making sure she had her phone, keys and, by force of habit, make-up to touch up later, as well as her purse with her driver’s licence in it (in case she wound up dead at least they would be able to identify her), she left and went down stairs.

[ ](http://s1369.photobucket.com/user/Roguex1979/media/tomsuit_zps68031369.jpg.html)

When she got there, she saw Tom leaning up against his jaguar, waiting for her. He looked very dashing in a dark suit, white button up and a thin tie to match, and a white square _just_ peeking outside the top of his jacket pocket. His shoes were polished and his hair coiffed to perfection. Grace had decided to leave her hair down, but hadn’t done anything special for him. _Fuck him!_

When he saw her, he smiled and pushed himself off the car. “Ah, right on time. And looking absolutely stunning, darling.” He held his arms out as she approached and she automatically walked into his embrace, but didn’t return it. He kissed her lightly on each cheek.

“I suppose I should thank you for the gifts,” Grace said sombrely.

“ _Was_ that a thank you?” Tom laughed. “I couldn’t quite tell.” Grace shrugged. She might be being forced on this farce of a date, but she didn’t need to commit to it that much. “Come now, Grace. You can do better than that.”

Grace grit her teeth. “Thank you for the gifts; they’re beautiful.”

Tom chuckled and then opened the passenger door for her, which she remembered was on the right of the car for his model. She slipped inside, the smell of the leather interior bringing that night back to her vividly. Tom got in the driver side and they peeled onto the road with a screech of tires. Grace automatically held onto the seat with fear, hoping the entire journey was not going to be like this. Tom made light conversation, and Grace replied non-committal where she could, most of her answers spat out. If he expected her to be compliant for him, he was sorely mistaken.

After about forty minutes of driving through traffic, Grace realised they were heading out of central London. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“An exclusive place I know, but it’s another forty minute drive, so relax.” He put some music on, Vivaldi she thought, and they drove in silence the rest of the way.

Eventually they reached a country road and Tom pulled into it. There was hardly any lighting save for some white fairy lights wrapped around the trunks of some of the trees and hung in the branches. In the dark, it looked quite lovely, but it also made Grace nervous. She really didn’t want to be anywhere with Tom, least of all a dark country road. She saw Tom glance at her admiring the lights and he smiled.

Further up the road was a magnificent restaurant tucked away amidst the trees and it too glittered with fairy lights and low lamps. It had the Italian flag coloured awnings outside, so Grace surmised it was an Italian place, but she’d never heard of it. Tom pulled up just outside the circumference of the light the restaurant gave off, effectively hiding the car from view.

“Take off your panties.”

Grace looked at Tom, taken aback. “Excuse me?” she asked in disbelief.

“You heard me. Take them off.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she laughed, thinking it was a joke, but the look he gave her told her it was anything but a joke. “Fuck off,” she sneered. “There is no way I’m taking off my panties in your presence!”

Tom sighed and got out of the car. Grace was satisfied that was the end of that and waited, seeing that he was coming round to her side of the car. He opened the door for her and she eased herself out of the seat carefully, to ensure he did not get an eyeful of her crotch. She was just getting her bag when he grabbed her arm and pulled her forcefully from the car.

She squealed as she was spun around and pushed harshly against the side of the car, facing the restaurant, but her back to Tom. He had a hand splayed wide at the centre of her back, holding her down. She braced her hands on the roof of the F-type and tried to push back. “Tom, what are you doing?!” she asked, slightly hysterical when she realised she was really no match for his strength.

She felt him come up flush against her, his thighs pressed against her arse. He leaned over her and spoke firmly, his voice a low purr that sent a shiver up her spine. “Grace, let me tell you something about how tonight is going to go: you will do everything I tell you to do. _Everything_! No fussing, no backchat, just obedience. I know how much you liked that when we were together last time. Do you understand me?”

“Or you’ll what?” Grace asked shakily, fearing the territory she was entering. “You’ve threatened my family so I wouldn’t expose you to the police for the murder of that man. You threatened my friend so I would come out with you tonight. Why should I listen to you at all? Why even bother to take me out if all you want to do is get me to take off my panties, sorry, the panties _you_ gave me? And last time, I didn’t know you were a fucking psychotic killer!” _That’s right, Grace. Incense the man who would probably not hesitate to snap your neck!_ “But, if you want to fuck me, just get it over and done with and then please leave me alone!”

She felt him run a hand up her thigh and under the dress. He toyed with the elastic of the lace and pulled it gently away from her body. “Oh, but it’s so much more fun to do it this way.” He said, his voice filled with eager hunger. He tugged sharply and the flimsy fabric ripped. Grace gasped as he pulled away from her suddenly and the panties came away completely with him.

Despite his lustful voice, despite the fact he’d torn her panties asunder, Tom lowered her dress to cover her bare bottom and let her up. He held the panties to his nose and inhaled deeply as Grace turned around warily and shaken, thinking he might just pounce on her and take her against his car then and there. “What was the point? You should have just ordered me to not wear anything underneath rather than waste money on buying them for me only to destroy them.” _Not that I would have listened!_

He grinned at her and slipped the torn fabric into one of his inside pockets. “But, if you had worn nothing, there would be nothing with your unique smell on it to titillate me later, apart from your luscious pussy itself, of course.” Grace swallowed hard at this. He’d started with the dirty talk now, and he obviously remembered all her kinks. “Anyway,” Tom said, as if he hadn’t just ripped her panties off her, “shall we?” He offered her his arm.

She grabbed her bag and closed the passenger door and took his arm reluctantly. They walked up to the restaurant and a breeze blew across the parking area and straight up her dress, caressing her bare thighs and mound. Grace felt the wetness that had formed there and managed to hide her shame as they entered the restaurant.

The interior was very beautiful. There was an exquisite chandelier dominating the centre of the room where no tables were below it. The tablecloths were stereotypically red and white checked and the chairs had padded seats and brass work. There was a red and white rose in a small vase to match the tablecloth as well as a romantic flame free candle flickering realistically on each table. Music was filtering through; some opera that Grace had no hope knowing who it was, but it fit the atmosphere of the entire place very nicely. And the smells! Dear god, Grace’s mouth watered smelling the combination of pizzas and pastas!

“Ah! Buonasera! Buonasera!” a tall head waiter said cheerfully as they reached the dining area. “Il solito tavolo, Mr. Hiddleston?” he asked extending his hand for Tom to shake. ( _Good evening! Your usual table, Mr Hiddleston?_ )

Tom smiled warmly and reciprocated. “Si, grazie, Gino,” he replied. ( _Yes, thank you, Gino._ )

Gino looked at Grace. “Good evening, Mrs Hiddleston,” he said bowing slightly, then lifting up and kissing each cheek. She blushed and was about to correct him, but thought better of it as they were ushered to a lovely table in the back on the room. Grace’s heart dropped when she realised there was no one else here and wondered if Tom had booked it out like he’d booked out the bed and breakfast. It then occurred to Grace that perhaps Tom had arranged another hit!

But just as Gino was pulling out her chair for her to sit, the door to the eatery opened again and another group of people filtered in and waited patiently for the head waiter to seat them. “Un momento, per favore,” Gino said to Tom, who nodded. ( _One moment, please._ )As he walked off, Grace heard him ask the group if they had a booking for the evening.

Tom sat in his seat opposite Grace and smiled at her. “Well?” he asked, gesturing to the place.

“It’s lovely,” Grace answered truthfully, as a female waiter approached the table with a bowl of green and black olives and a small basket of bread. As she poured out the combination of extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar, another waiter, male, approached with the wine list.

“Abbiamo una bella selezione di vini,” he said with a smile. ( _We have a wonderful selection of wines._ )

Tom perused the list briefly. “Would you like something to drink other than wine, darling?” he asked Grace with a playful smile on his face.

Grace, although enchanted by the décor, remembered why she was here, and her anger returned. “No nothing, although I wouldn’t mind some water,” she said turning to the waiter. “But could you please bring it to me in a concealed bottle and only open it at the table? Grazie.”

Tom chuckled. “Ci piacerebbe provare il Brunello di Montalcino, per favore.” ( _We would like to try the Brunello di Montalcino, please._ )

He handed the list back to the young man, who nodded briefly. “Certemente,” he said and handed them each a menu before heading off to do the same with the new table that was seated on the other side of the room. ( _Certainly._ )

Tom put his elbows on the edge of the table and rested his chin on his downturned hands. “So, you’re worried that I’ll drug you, is that it?”

Grace made a show of reading the menu so she wouldn’t have to look at Tom’s smug face. “I wouldn’t put it passed you, you who ripped my panties like they were paper and basically told me I am going to have no choice but to have sex with you later.” She quieted down when yet another waiter brought over the bottle of water, which he opened before Grace’s eyes and poured for her. He also opened a bottle of expensive looking red wine and poured a little out for Tom to taste. Tom nodded and he poured out a glass for Tom and then another for Grace. She didn’t bother to protest since she’s seen him open the bottle then and there. She just wouldn’t drink it.

They ordered their dinners, Grace happy that Tom wasn’t being completely old fashioned, or a smarmy dick, and let her order her own food. Grace had seen that there were no prices on the menu, which probably meant she would never be able to afford this place in a million years, but it also meant she couldn’t choose the fairly cheap items like she would normally when someone else was paying for her.

Tom ordered chicken liver pate with some sort of tomato chutney, which sounded delicious, so she ordered the same for starters. Then he ordered swordfish. Grace thought ‘ _Italian restaurant, so their lasagne must be amazing’_ so she ordered that. And for dessert, she ordered the Tiramisu, which Tom said sounded delightful and to make it two.

“So, tell me,” Grace began, not wanting to sit in silence, “what is it that you actually do, Tom? I mean, apart from order murder.”

Tom laughed. It was an infuriatingly sweet laugh when it wasn’t evil or dark. “Well, that’s not my main job, but I really can’t talk about my work. I’m sure you must realise that.”

“So why did you have that man killed then? What could he possibly have done that would warrant the ending of his life?” Grace asked, determined to get an answer out of him. She didn’t care that the more she knew the more likely it was that she would be his next victim. If tonight was anything to go by, he wouldn’t be satisfied with her simply not telling the police. It was obvious he intended to ensure she did anything and everything he asked of her, and there would be hell to pay if she didn’t.

Tom sighed. “Okay, I will tell you this much: we lent the man a large sum of money, which he promised to pay back within a certain amount of time, with interest of course. He didn’t comply with the terms of our agreement.”

Grace shook her head. “You’re a bank? Wait, no, banks aren’t _that_ unscrupulous in getting their money back. You’re…you’re loan sharks?”

“Umm, not exactly,” Tom said rubbing his elegant fingers across his chin, “although for the purposes of this explanation, I suppose you _could_ say that.”

“So why did the man have to die? He can’t pay you back now that he’s dead.”

Tom leaned forwards. “You’re entering dangerous territory now, Grace. I can’t tell you any more, for your own safety, of course.”

Grace scoffed. “Well, you’re the one who I need protecting from, so what does it matter if you tell me anything?” Tom didn’t reply, which was enough indication that the conversation was over, and just as the starters were brought over.

Forgetting that she wasn’t going to drink her wine, she took a small sip. It was delicious and went well with their pate. By the time their mains came, she was halfway down the second glass. She caught Tom eyeing her as she took another sip. “What?” she asked.

Tom simply shook his head and thanked the waiter. “Buon appetito,” the waiter said and left.

Grace ate her lasagne with relish and even took a bite of Tom’s fish when it was offered to her. She wasn’t that struck on it and told him so. Tom accepted her proffered offering and took a little too long to take it off the fork with his mouth, looking intently at her as he did. Grace blushed at this, then cursed herself for being so silly. Red wine always made her horny and it didn’t help that Tom was devilishly handsome and that she was wearing no knickers. She glanced around the room, which had filled with a few more patrons, wondering if anyone suspected anything.

Tom said the lasagne was delicious and admitted he probably should have had that too, but finished his meal none-the-less. And when dessert came, they both ate this with gusto. By this time, Grace was about to pour her third glass of wine, but Tom took the bottle from her and only poured a little bit more into her glass. “I don’t want you to get too drunk, Grace,” he said sternly, and poured the last dregs into his own glass.

After dessert, Tom ordered a couple of coffees, and then called Gino over to the table. “Abbiamo bisogno della musica di Arcangelo Corelli, invece di questo!” he requested, to which Gino nodded and left quickly.

“What was that about?” Grace asked taking her last bite of dessert. She heard whatever was playing stop and then something else came on. She giggled. “You put in a request to play something else?”

Tom nodded, wiped his mouth and then stood up. He walked around the table and held his hand out to her. “Balliamo?” he asked her. When she looked at him confused, he smiled. “Would you care to dance?”

Grace shook her head. The music was not something she could dance to. It was classical and she would make a fool of herself even attempting to do so.

Tom’s smile wavered slightly. “Come on, Grace. I told you: you listen to everything I tell you to do tonight.”

Grace, instead of being angry by his words, she looked down at the floor, embarrassed. She felt Tom put a finger under her chin and lift her head to look at him. His visage had softened. “It’s just…I don’t want anyone else to know about the commando situation. And I’m worried they might see…” She shrugged, finishing her excuse lamely.

Tom smiled. “I tell you what, there is a very nice deck out the back that they usually only use during the day or for special occasions, so no one will be using it tonight. Will you dance with me there?”

Grace was defeated. Her excuse was thrown out, so she had no choice. Throwing back the last of her wine, she stood up. “Okay,” she said finally and took his hand, letting him lead her out a back entrance.

She gasped when she saw what was before her. She hadn’t realised that the restaurant backed onto a lake, complete with rushes and grasses and birds floating, sending slight ripples across and otherwise undisturbed surface. The night sky was clear too, and with the minimal lights in the immediate and surrounding area the stars could be seen forever. The moon, which was low on the horizon, just rising, was reflecting on the mirror top of the water. The music Tom had chosen filtered very softly even with the door closed.

She felt Tom come up behind her, but she was too stunned by the absolute magic of where she was that she didn’t flinch when he placed his hands around her waist. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Tom breathed. Grace nodded slowly with agreement. She let him turn her slowly and looked at his face, which looked calm and serene in the moonlight. He looked nothing like a brutal businessman/loan shark who would break your legs or kill you if you didn’t pay up on time. He looked like a normal, well-dressed, good-looking man, and Grace knew if she’d never witnessed the murder or had any inkling of what Tom did for a living, she would not have been apprehensive in the slightest about this date.

Tom smiled at her and placed an arm around her waist and took her hand in his other, her other arm going up to his shoulder, and they swayed in time to the slow music. “Relax,” he said softly in her ear, and Grace felt herself obeying him. They danced for a while, Tom holding on to her like he was afraid to hold her too tightly, Grace feeling conflicted. She should not be enjoying this. She should be afraid of him, what he does, what he could do to her.

But none of that seemed to matter to her at this moment. He was holding her flush against him, her breasts pressing against him, and she could actually feel his heart beating in his chest. Or maybe it was hers; she couldn’t really tell. She looked into his eyes, and saw something in them, something she couldn’t quite tell what it was, but they held her to ransom.

She felt him run his hand up from her waist to the centre of her back between her shoulder blades and he dipped her slightly as the song came to an end. He then leaned down and captured her lips in a sweet embrace; no tongue, no invasion, just…innocent.

When he lifted her back up, she felt light headed and confused. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the date. Maybe it was the speaking Italian. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the fact that every breeze up her dress reminded her of how naked she was down there and how very wet she was from a simple dance and chaste kiss.

“Fuck it,” she breathed and launched herself forwards, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a kiss of her own on his very soft lips. She could tell he was surprised by her actions because it took him a couple of seconds to start responding, but respond he did! She could taste the dessert he’d had as well as the tang of the wine when she slipped her tongue inside his mouth. She realised she was being forward, but she didn’t care anymore.

Once he got over the shock, Tom started to take control again. One hand slid down to her hip and the other cupped her face. Their tongues duelled for victory, Tom winning without mercy, and he began to herd her towards a wooden barrier between the deck and the lake. It was short enough that when they reached it, Grace’s back could be bent over it slightly as Tom pressed forwards into her.

She pulled away from his mouth. “Wait, stop!” she cried. “The wood is digging into me.”

“That’s not the only wood that will be digging into you in a moment,” Tom growled, but relented and let her up. He pulled her off the fence and pushed towards a sturdy looking table. He practically threw her on top of it and leaned over her using his legs to push hers apart, leaving her vulnerable to him. He resumed kissing her, his ministrations a lot more demanding now. The hand that had been at her face now gripped the back of her neck tightly, keeping her mouth to his. His other hand worked slowly from her hip down to the front of her body and under her dress to cup her now dripping sex.

Grace once again managed to pull away from his mouth pushing against his shoulders, so Tom occupied himself by nibbling her ear and down her neck. “Someone…will…see…won’t they?” she squeaked as two of his clever fingers parted her folds and rubbed gently at her clit.

Tom bit her neck softly and hummed before answering, his voice gravelly and seductive. “Gino and his staff know better than to peek, and as far as I’m concerned, this is a private party. The other guests shouldn’t be able to get out here, since I had Gino lock the door after we came out here.” He ended his sentence by slipping his fingers inside Grace and she gasped loudly. She could feel Tom’s wicked smile against her skin.

Grace’s passage was so soaked that when Tom pulled his fingers out and then plunged them back in, they made a wet sound that only turned her on even more. She moaned with each push and pull and cried out as he dragged them across her sensitive nub. “Oh god, yes, right there! Don’t stop!” She grabbed the edge of the table with both hands whilst he worked his magic on her.

“Oh, here?” Tom jested, circling slowly, speeding up as she writhed beneath him, pressing his forehead against hers. He licked his lips and looked into her eyes as she crept closer and closer to her orgasm. He chuckled as she gripped the wood so hard her knuckles turned white. “I guess the only thing at this point is to ask you this: do you want to come?”

“Yes! Oh god, yes!” Grace croaked, trying to keep her voice down in case the other patrons could hear her. Tom was keeping her on the edge of her climax. It was delicious torture.

“Beg me,” Tom growled. “Beg me to make you come so hard that your vision goes white with pleasure, and you think you’re going to never feel anything but that bliss for the rest of your life!”

“Please! God, yes please! Make me come. Make me come! Please!”

Grace felt Tom abruptly lift off of her and she was about to protest when he knelt between her legs and plunged his fingers back inside of her and latched his lips around her swollen clit. She groaned as he pulled it into his mouth and suckled on it gently, coaxing her orgasm over the edge. Grace laced her fingers through Tom’s hair, gripping it tightly, quite sure she’s loosed at least a few of them, but too consumed to care.

As she was coming down, she could feel Tom remove his fingers from within her smoothly, lapping up what she offered him, cleaning her folds, tugging on them gently with his lips and teeth, flicking back over her jewel causing her to feel mini wracking jolts through her already sensitised body. Panting harshly, she managed to remove her fingers from his hair and flopped them onto her stomach and ran up her body to grip her own breasts, licking her lips.

She opened her eyes and saw Tom rising, his eyes dark with carnality, sucking on his fingers. She knew she’d awakened the beast she’d experienced in the bed and breakfast; that wild, ferel animal that wanted to fuck her hard again; make her scream again. She simply lay there, waiting for him to make his move.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then licking the excess juice from it, he went for his belt, undoing it hastily, unbuttoning his trousers and lowering them. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, much to Grace’s hidden amusement (so they had been on even playing field for a while at least) and his large erection was freed. “Turn over,” he commanded. When Grace didn’t move, he frowned. “Now!”

“I can’t move,” Grace whispered with a giggle. She genuinely felt too boneless, and her hands fell to the sides of her head, her hair splayed messily across the surface of the table.

With a snarl, Tom stalked forwards and turned her unceremoniously. She felt her feet only just touch the ground before her dress was flipped up and he slammed into her without warning. Grace cried out as she was stretched. Thankfully, she was still fairly lubricated inside, and after a few hard thrusts of his hips, he was buried balls deep and the discomfort made way for the feeling of being full of him and potential pleasure.

“Hands,” Tom ground out through clenched teeth. He was clearly trying very hard to control himself from just thrusting with wild abandon. Grace, surprising herself, knew what he wanted of her, and she reached behind her so he could gather them up. He pressed them against the small of her back, trapping them tightly in one large hand, the other pressing down on her shoulder, keeping her still. Only then did he begin moving in and out of her. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. “So tight and hot!” He laughed. “My intel has been accurate when they say you’ve not been with anyone since our last meeting.”

Grace felt her muscles tighten with his statement. Why would he bring something like that up? She tried to lift herself up. She suddenly didn’t want this to continue, but when he moved the hand from her shoulder to her head to keep her down, she realised it would be futile to try and stop him now. And after a few more thrusts that rubbed tantalisingly against her g-spot, she went back to not caring.

Tom’s pace increased; Grace could tell that his trousers had dropped because she could feel his powerful thigh muscles slapping against the top of her own thighs and buttocks, his balls grazing her clitoris with each swing. He moved the hand holding her head down to her hips and she felt his fingers dig into her soft flesh as he began to lose control of himself.

Each thrust brought Grace closer and closer to another peak and she vocalised this with moaning, panting and groaning, punctuated with the occasional grunt from Tom before he slowed down to a near halt and leaned over her to whisper in her ear, grinding his pelvis against her, pushing himself as deeply as he could physically go. “Give it to me. Give me your orgasm, my darling, and then never give it to anyone else ever again!”

Grace couldn’t answer, because he began pounding into her so hard and fast again, his fingers gripping bruisingly against her hip and tighter around her wrists, that her breath was knocked from her lungs. Gasping with each impact, Grace was so very close.

“That’s it! Fuck! Come, Grace! Come all over my cock!” Tom roared and Grace once again complied.

Screaming his name, no longer worried about anyone hearing her, too caught up in her own satisfaction, Grace’s muscles constricted around Tom’s throbbing member and he spilled deep and long inside of her. Muscle fluttering as she relaxed, she milked him for everything he had. She felt him deliberately let go of her wrists and pull his hand from her hip, to which she winced not doubting that she would be bruised later.

He pulled out of her and stumbled backwards a bit. Grace felt their mingled juices leaking from her and sliding down her leg. She didn’t want to move, quite conscious of the fact that she was bared to him in this state. She did, however, look behind her to see what he was doing. He was panting and had backed against the wooden fence, leaning on it for support. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out Grace’s knickers.

He grinned at her. “I knew they’d come in handy for me.” He wiped himself before reaching down and bringing his trousers back up, tucking himself away. He then sauntered over to her, a smug look on his face and began wiping their essences from her legs. When he’d finished, he helped her up. She was weak on her legs and wobbled around the table to one of the chairs and sank into it gratefully. Tom sat himself in another chair next to her and they simply sat in silence for a few moments.

“Why me?” Grace asked as she stared up at the stars above her. The moon had risen high in the sky and a lonely cloud had formed and was floating silently by. The breeze felt extra cool against her sweat dampened skin.

Tom leaned back in the chair. “Why you what?”

“Why did you approach me for this? This whole thing tonight? Why did you buy me this outfit and the bag, bring me to this place?” She sat up and gestured around her. “I mean, I guess you’ve been keeping your eye on me to make sure I don’t tell the police about what I saw, and I think I’ve proven that I haven’t and will never. But, why? Why approach me again? I’m sure you could have any woman you wanted and they’d be more willing.”

“You mean like you were willing the first time we met?” Tom asked with a grin on his face. Grace blushed. She never usually did that, but Tom had been captivating and her knight in shining armour. She’d been helpless against his charm. Tom continued, “I don’t want someone like the women that are currently in my life. In my line of work, I am too busy for a full blown relationship, and I am getting sick of the vapid, unintelligent bimbos and gold diggers who throw themselves at me.” He gave her a sideways glance. “And none of them turn me on quite like you do. You share certain…kinks that I enjoy.” He sighed. “Besides, I relish control, and there is nothing more thrilling to me than holding power over someone. I crave it, both in my line of work _and_ in my bedroom.”

Grace hadn’t expected anything less from him, but it still made her angry to hear it. “So, what, you’re going to keep doing this to me?” she asked standing up to face him, her hands clenched into fists at her side. “You’re just going to continue with the extortion, threatening me and my friends and family until, what, you get bored of me? Then what? Will you kill me? Or will you just keep watching me for the rest of my life?”

Tom stood up and towered over her. “I could never get bored of you, Grace. You interest me too much. And yes, as long as you keep resisting me, I will continue to pursue you. And if you submit to me, well, we’ll have a good time exploring each other’s limits, won’t we?”

“You bastard!” Grace shouted and slapped him soundly across the face. Without waiting to see if he would retaliate, she walked over to the deck door and jiggled the handle. The door didn’t open and she pulled at it harder, banging. “Please open the door!” she called in. She turned to look at Tom, who was still standing by the table and chairs, his hand holding his cheek where she’d slapped him, his eyes full of mischief, a half smirk on his lips.

Grace heard the door unlock and she immediately opened it and walked over to their table. She grabbed her bag and left the restaurant. Glancing behind her, she saw Tom talking to Gino, probably to settle the bill. She snorted and walked over to the car. She had no other means to get home, so she simply waited for him there.

She was left standing there for a good few minutes before Tom approached the car, in which time she began to get very cold. She shifted from foot to foot, rubbing her bare arms to try and warm herself up. She watched as he went to the boot of the car and opened it. He pulled out a white box and moved to the front of the car and placed it down, looking at her with a secretive smile on his face. He opened the box and pulled out a Valentino Silk Flared Lapel coat. He held it up to her and raised his eyebrows in a silent beckoning.

[ ](http://s1369.photobucket.com/user/Roguex1979/media/Valentinosilkflaredlapelblazer_zps0c3e3043.jpg.html)

Laughing in disbelief, Grace went over to him, shaking her head. She turned around and allowed him to put the coat over her shoulders and she slipped her arms in. She hugged herself, lightly smelling the fabric surrounding her and felt the wonderful material, a smile she could not contain on her face. She made a decision. “Okay then,” she said finally, turning back to look at him. “It seems I have no choice in the matter, but, I am jobless and the sex is great, so…” She took in a deep breath and let it out shakily. “…so as long as you ‘keep me’, I will ‘submit’ to your whims.” Tom was about to say something but she held a finger up to silence. “ _But_ , you have to promise to call off your watchdogs from Laura and any of my other friends, and especially my family. They are only connected to me, but they have nothing to do with anything; not that _incident_ , and not our _relationship._ Got it?”

Tom chuckled. “Very well. I’ll arrange it all tomorrow. In the mean time…” He opened the passenger door for her and she slid in. He shut the door, removed the box from the hood and put it back in the boot, jogged over to the driver side and got in. “…let’s head back to your place. I daresay our new arrangement calls for a little celebration in more a more _intimate_ environment.”

“You know the walls of my flat are very thin?”

Tom laughed darkly. “That’s okay. I have ‘ways and means’ of ensuring your silence.”

Grace shivered and hoped she’d made the right choice as Tom turned the engine over and revved the car, switching it to sport mode and roaring off into the night.

END


End file.
